


Eros' Arrow

by S2_501



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Draco Malfoy is trying his best, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hurt/comfort - in a way, Love charms, M/M, Romance, charms class
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22733548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S2_501/pseuds/S2_501
Summary: Eros' Arrow is told to have powers that every Mind-healer wishes they had. The ability to completely erase all negative emotions. It is said to siphon feelings such as fear, hatred, guilt, and so much more. Leave a replica in a room full of teens suffering from possible PTSD, what could go wrong?I'll tell you what. Everything.What could possibly go right?... Everything?I think? Maybe?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Pansy Parkinson & Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 12
Kudos: 127





	Eros' Arrow

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to get this Valentine's themed story out but made it a day too late. Yikes >.> Anyway, I hope you enjoy! As always, this hasn't been beta'd so if there are any errors, please let me know so I can fix them ^^

There weren’t a lot of things that piqued Harry’s interest these days. It seemed as if he was tired of mystery and intrigue. The thought of having to run to go somewhere other than the great hall for breakfast left a sour taste in his mouth. He just wanted to live his life simply, and with the least amount of drama.

Of course, that was before he had a Draco Malfoy glued to his side whispering sonnets of his eyes and how they made him _feel_ things. Harry tried to push Malfoy off him, but that seemed to make his grip tighter. You don’t take away a child’s favourite toy from a child, and it just so happened that for some reason, _Harry_ was Malfoy’s favourite.

He tilted his head back on the sofa and groaned in frustration. It’s been a week of this and he was already _done_ with it. How much longer would this torture have to last?

His sound of frustration drew the eyes of the two opposite him. Now there was a pairing he hadn’t expected to come to fruition. Because of what happened, Hermione took to the library – as you do in these situations – and since he wasn’t the only party affected, Blaise followed, offering his assistance. Harry hadn’t realised how much of a tight bunch the Slytherins were, but he can acknowledge that after the year they had, deeper bonds can form.

“It’s just a few more days– er weeks– before it fades away Potter, do try and suck it up. I expected you to be used to the fawning, adoring fans.” Blaise smirked, earning a giggle from Hermione who quickly settled herself. That didn’t stop Harry’s pointed glare in her direction.

Harry grumbled to himself and crossed his arms over his chest in silent protest. He tried to ignore Malfoy’s hands that were caressing his hair. He tried to ignore the delight he could feel growing from the sensation. It wasn’t right for him to feel it, especially with what was wrong with Malfoy at the moment. It wouldn’t do any good.

Two more people joined them in their hidden circle, laughing at what they saw. Pansy and Ron was another friendship that Harry hadn’t expected. He supposed there’s an ironic symmetry to the trios. Hermione and Blaise as the intelligent, book-smart, friends, while Ron and Pansy were the strategic ones with a cunning kick. Harry hid a shudder since that meant he and Malfoy were the compatible ones.

“Potter and Draco, don’t you look darling, don’t you look cosy?” Pansy said, sitting down while politely tucking her skirt under her thighs. She had taken to the situation like a dog with a bone.

Malfoy merely hummed and tried his best to burrow into Harry, forcing his arms apart so it would go around his shoulder. He pushed his face into the space between Harry’s neck and shoulder, where Harry could feel his smile against his neck.

Don’t get him wrong, Harry would love to do anything to push Malfoy away and hex him into oblivion. Only, Malfoy wasn’t exactly acting like himself. Harry just had to _wait it out_ like a good person.

It wasn’t exactly like he was fully innocent in what happened. It all started because Harry couldn't keep to himself. But in Harry’s defence, when did he ignore Malfoy?

_A week ago…_

Harry wiggled on his stool in the classroom, enjoying the fact that one leg was shorter than the others. The noise of his chair was overpowered by the excited discussion of his classmates as they waited for Flitwick to arrive and begin class. Today was about the art of siphoning. Flitwick had prepared the class for a week, telling them to think about what object they were interested in using. He had engaged the class with the tale of Eros’ arrow, telling them he’d bring it with him as a demonstration.

Eros’ arrow was a solid gold arrow that captivated everyone, once Flitwick displayed it by the front of the class. He explained how a simple touch could absorb all the negative emotions a person would feel, leaving behind only good thoughts. He did warn them, however, that too much of a good thing, wasn’t necessarily a good thing. Eros’ arrow was so strong that a person could get high off the feeling, and act blindly. No longer feeling fear, they could fight something terrible to death, as his best example.

Harry knew all about fear and death so he could understand why one shouldn’t touch the arrow. Oh, but to be blind to the feeling of emptiness and the depression he no doubt had… 

Hermione must’ve been aware of this as she gripped his arm and shook her head.

“It’s not worth it,” she said to him.

Flitwick carried on with his lecture, “this arrow is inspired by Cupid, hence the name Eros’ arrow. Of course, that arrow is a lot less potent and simply injects the feeling of romance to a person. This is somewhat deadlier as you become blind to things. Anger, sadness and fear are healthy and necessary sometimes.” Flitwick looked over his glasses, taking note of the students who cowed at his words, he’d encourage them to visit the hired mind-healer later. “It goes without saying, I do not want any of you touching this arrow. Are we clear?”

The class responded with a “yes, sir, crystal.”

He nodded and proceeded to tell them to turn to their textbooks. And so the rest of the class faded from Harry’s mind. He played with his quill and drew arrows all over his parchment with hearts floating around them. He attempted to draw a cherub, but it only resembled a marshmallow with wings and a strange nappy. He quickly crossed it out when he heard Ron laugh next to him.

“Shove off,” he elbowed Ron’s side taking pleasure in hearing him almost topple over his stool. 

—————

Class finally ended with little fanfare. Flitwick left the arrow on the table, trusting his students not to be so stupid that they would touch it. He probably placed too much trust in them, because that was mistake number one of the day.

The Golden Trio – penned by the Prophet at the end of the war, to the amusement of people _in_ the trio – made their way to the front when they heard whispering behind them.

“What’s so bad about forgetting the pain? It’s so... _much_ Pansy. I don’t think I can handle another day in this… _guilt_.”

Harry’s ears twitched at the familiar drawl he knew belonged to one person. The words resonated with Harry. He too was tired of feeling guilty. It came and went, attacking him unexpectedly at his weakest moments. Fortunately, Hermione had recognised his triggers and tried her best to distract him and take his mind off it.

“Don’t be ridiculous Draco. You heard Flitwick, you might as well become a Hufflepuff if you take away your brooding.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad. Much better than being a Slytherin in this day and age,” Malfoy muttered.

Harry was torn between walking away or turning around and comforting Malfoy. He was no stranger to hating where he was and wanting a change in his surroundings. No stranger to wanting something different, a way to make things better. He could understand, but he also knew that hiding away from the darkness wasn’t smart. The darkness would only build up, growing until before he knew it, the light was no more.

“I’m gonna do it.” Harry heard.

He looked to Ron and Hermione, it seemed as if they heard it too, but they remained frozen, unsure themselves on what to do. It wasn’t any of their business, and they were _retired_ from saving the people.

Harry tugged on the peeling skin of his lower lip with his teeth. He kept biting and pulling until the copper taste entered his mouth. He licked the blood off and turned around, surprised by how close Malfoy got to the table. _I can’t believe I’m doing this_ , he thought while heading toward Malfoy in an attempt to stop him.

Malfoy was apparently faster than Harry gave credit for as before he knew it Malfoy was touching the arrow.

Harry cursed and reached to pull Malfoy’s arm away from the gold bar that was the arrow’s shaft. He tugged and tugged, but Malfoy’s grip was steady. Harry could hear a collective intake from his classmates. _Great_ , he thought, rolling his eyes.

Malfoy looked at Harry’s hand gripping him, his eyes following it to Harry’s shoulder, neck, before settling on his face. Harry’s eyes widened when he saw Malfoy’s irises turn fuschia for a few seconds before it was seemingly absorbed. His usual grey eyes took a tint of pink, looking like the clouds during an early spring sunset. What surprised Harry most was the smile steadily growing on Malfoy’s face.

It must have been so long since Harry last saw him smile genuinely because it was dazzling. Harry blinked and turned his attention to the rest of the class. They too were shocked but refused to make any sudden movements. Harry let go of Malfoy’s arm, which made him whimper at the loss. His grip on the arrow loosened and he grabbed at Harry’s hand linking their fingers together.

Harry’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. He was out of his element, confused and slightly warm. His hand twitched, unsure whether he should grip Malfoy’s hand back or twist away. The whimper from earlier echoed in his memory, Malfoy didn’t want him to let go.

“What the fuck?” Ron uttered, drawing attention to him.

—————

They had to tell Flitwick what happened. He simply shook his head, his shoulders dejected.

“I should have expected it. The temptation to erase all the harsh emotions must have been too much for you all. This is my fault, I apologise, truly. There is nothing we can do. Depending on how long Mr Malfoy was holding the arrow, we can estimate how long it will fade.”

Harry squeezed his nose bridge and closed his eyes. This was another thing on top of another thing that he truly didn’t want to deal with. Why was it always him and Malfoy?

“As I said in class, that arrow is a siphon. It didn’t remove Mr Malfoy’s negative emotions and destroy it. His emotions remain in the arrow. There’s no telling how extreme those emotions are. I recommend him touching the arrow every two days for a few seconds to reabsorb them. To make him suddenly face it… I’m quite sure it could mentally kill him. He’ll be too overwhelmed.” Flitwick turned to Madame Pomfrey, to ensure his advice was sound. She silently nodded in agreement.

Harry was starting to wonder why he was there in the first place. Malfoy wouldn’t let go of him. He was seated on a hospital bed swinging his feet back and forth. The smile on his face was yet to fade. He had tried to talk to Harry but was brushed off. Harry wasn’t interested in what he had to say.

“As for why you’re here… I mean it’s rather obvious is it not?”

Harry shook his head, “no _sir_ , it is not obvious to me at all.”

Pansy snorted, _oblivious_ , he heard her mutter. He turned to glare at her, not liking how people thought less of him for things that _weren’t obvious at all_!

“It goes back to the myth of Cupid. The arrow will be shot at the potential victim and whoever the victim eyes first will become the love interest. Cupid always shot the second person so the love was reciprocated. In this sense, with Eros’ arrow, you were the first to touch Mr Malfoy were you not?”

Harry choked, managing to ask, “love int–interest?”

Flitwick only nodded, “precisely that.”

“Surely there’s something ethically wrong with that?” Harry asked, refusing to look to his left where he knew Malfoy was watching him. He hadn’t said a word since Flitwick entered, becoming shy all of a sudden.

“What’s so bad about being my love interest?” Malfoy asked, his voice small. He had taken to playing with Harry’s left hand with both of his.

Pansy laughed, “indeed. There’s nothing wrong with it right?”

Harry glared at her and turned to Draco, whose eyes were sparkling with delight now that Harry’s attention was on him. Irises still encased in that pink tint, letting Harry know it wasn’t real. Harry searched his eyes, trying to find if the real Malfoy was still there.

“I suppose not, but I draw the line at reciprocating.”

At this Malfoy pouted, drawing Harry’s eyes to his lips. He never noticed how pink they were against his pale skin. They looked soft, cared for, unlike Harry’s chapped lips he continuously bit at.

“Ahem.”

Harry straightened up and looked to Flitwick, he ignored the knowing smile on Pansy’s face and the rush of heat in his cheeks. It was _nothing_.

Madame Pomfrey finally took over. She had been silent during Flitwick’s explanation, not having studied much about Eros’ arrow. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid he’ll be stuck like this for a while. Mr Malfoy, you will be excused from Charms class until this business is over. I don’t want to risk exposing you to further siphoning, not until you are completely stable in your emotional state.”

Malfoy tugged Harry to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and started to rub his cheek against Harry’s, “that’s fine with me.”

Harry tried to push himself away, but Malfoy seemed stronger and wouldn’t let him budge. He ignored the feeling of Malfoy’s smiling cheeks against his. _This is so not normal. But then again, when is my life ever normal?_ Harry thought.

—————

Upon returning for their eighth year after the war, there had been civility between those against Voldemort and those who cowed before him. It had increased to friendships, particularly with Blaise and most of the Gryffindor boys. His dark sense of humour was right up Seamus’ alley and the two would often be found snickering away by the fireplace in the common room.

In light of recent events, friendships started forming more easily. Pansy and Hermione took to bonding over their idiot friends, while Ron and Theodore found themselves playing pranks on unassuming prey.

Prey that for the past few days were Harry and Malfoy. Malfoy would get chocolates, or letters signed _H <3 _ which would only result in him catapulting himself onto Harry. Harry had no choice but to hug him as a way of steadying them, instead of collapsing under his weight. Those who witnessed this took great pleasure in Harry’s discomfort and Malfoy’s laughter.

Harry would sit down in the great hall, and a second later would be engulfed in the blond’s hug. He would find himself being fed by Malfoy, to the amusement of everyone in the vicinity, and as much as he hated it, he accepted every mouthful. The grin that would appear on Malfoy's face definitely wasn’t the reason for it. It wasn’t.

He didn’t stop at feeding Harry, sometimes he would follow Harry, forgetting his class schedule until Harry promised to stay where he was and wait for Malfoy to come back. The biggest request Malfoy made was for Harry to call him Draco, _just once, please Harry?_ Harry made sure they were alone for that, he hated to think about how much teasing he would have got for it.

There were some serious times when the two were left alone and Malfoy’s head would rest on Harry’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said once to the empty common room. Harry flinched and looked down at Malfoy, “I forgive you” he replied.

Naturally, Malfoy would lose his marbles and speak poems into Harry’s ear. Words so pure and loving that it would leave Harry blushing. Once, Malfoy attempted to be seductive, but Harry put an end to that immediately. _I won’t take advantage of the situation_ he’d say. That only led to Malfoy grinning because _that means there’s something there_ he would giggle.

One such time, Harry was caught unaware. They were alone again, and somehow Malfoy found out how comfy he was in Harry’s lap. Harry bit his lip to try and keep himself in check, but Malfoy would have none of that. He shuffled around a bit and smirked at the moan Harry let out. “There it is,” he’d say, leaning forward to kiss Harry’s cheek. Harry knew it wouldn’t be long before Malfoy would attempt to kiss him elsewhere and he wasn’t sure if he was dreading it or anticipating it. He just wanted this to be over so things could be… Not exactly normal, but understandable.

—————

It was another day of Malfoy’s slow recovery and since the first session, he refused to go without Harry by his side. The way he was getting so attached to Harry was a constant worry for him. How would Malfoy act once he fully recovered? He could only imagine the hate-filled argument they would inevitably have. 

Flitwick opened the door for them to his office. The arrow was on the table, glowing in a way that was no longer appealing to Harry. Malfoy’s hand found Harry’s and he squeezed it tight. He suddenly started to hyperventilate. Each session had found him panicking, and there was yet to be some result.

“I… I– I can’t do it. I don’t want to bring back the pain. I can’t feel it, but I remember it. I don’t want it. Harry–” he looked into Harry’s eyes pleadingly, they were becoming watery, “please don’t make me do it. I don’t want it. I’m happy with the way things are, aren’t you?”

Harry gulped and took hold of Malfoy’s shoulders, he hesitated before he spoke. Coming to a decision he looked into Malfoy’s light pink eyes, “Draco.” Malfoy smiled at his name being uttered. “I understand how much it hurts, but it isn’t smart to ignore the bad things. It’ll only hurt you in the end. Wouldn’t it feel better if you welcomed it bit by bit, rather than getting bombarded by an onslaught at once?” This wasn’t the first time he tried comforting Malfoy.

Malfoy nodded, eyes softening, “you care about me? What happens to me after?”

Harry, surprised that he actually did, smiled back, “yeah I do. So let’s do this okay? I’m here if you need me.” And that wasn’t even a lie, he had said it without thinking.

Malfoy, no– Draco’s breath shook and he nodded, heading to Flitwick’s table. He cast a dubious glance at Flitwick but was only encouraged to move forward. He lifted his left hand and touched the arrow with his forefinger, wanting to have the least amount of contact possible.

Draco gasped slightly at some of the elation leaving him. The pink haze he was under darkened into a red one. He pulled his hand back and kicked the table with his foot. He took his head into his hands and pulled at his hair. This worried Harry who rushed to pull his hands away, preventing him from hurting himself.

“Get the fuck off me, Potter!” Draco growled, freeing one hand to shove Harry away.

Shocked after having such a gentle, smiley Draco, Harry backed off.

Draco groaned and sunk into a crouch. He banged his fist against the ground multiple times, relishing in feeling something other than the heated fury within him. He was angry at himself for losing his senses and cuddling Potter, _of all people_! He hated how weak he must have seemed, a lovestruck idiot that people would mock him for years to come. Merlin, he’d never hear the end of it!

Harry, frustrated that he was suddenly being ignored, pulled Draco up and forced him to face him.

“What part of don’t touch me doesn’t register in your idiotic brain?”

“Are you angry?”

“Give the boy a medal, oh wait. You have tons of those. Money? No, you have that already. Anything you want for getting obvious things correct?”

Harry merely accepted the tirade flowing free from Draco. Harry knew that keeping anger in would only fester, and was prepared for whatever Draco could say to him. After all, eight years of hateful remarks from the person sort of built Harry’s immunity.

Draco continued on his rant, calling everyone names, cursing his father. He cursed the fates for dealing him with such a bad hand and kicked at the table some more. He shoved Harry away repeatedly, but he refused to budge. He promised to remain by Draco and he wanted to keep that promise.

They stayed in that position on the ground for a few minutes. Draco’s breathing was heavy after the rants he spewed. He rubbed his left hand where light bruising had formed. Harry thought nothing of it when he grabbed Draco’s hand and rubbed the knuckles. He pried open his fist and held his hand properly, helping them both stand.

“Why are you still here?” Draco mumbled, choosing to ignore Harry’s questioning gaze.

“I have no clue. I was gonna take you to Madame Pomfrey, but if you wanted to go alone–” Draco tightened his grip on Harry’s hand, “–okay, let’s go then?”

Draco nodded, still refusing to look at him.

“Great!” Harry smiled and turned, pulling Draco with him.

“I’ll just put this away then,” Flitwick said to the two boys. They hadn’t realised he was still in the room and closed the door after they left. Flitwick shook his head and smiled at the sight. He looked at the arrow and sighed. Hopefully, it would do more good than bad.

—————

After the week he had, Harry was no longer shy walking around while holding Draco’s hand. He had been subjected to much worse from the other boy, something as simple as holding hands felt like nothing. _Or everything_ , his inner voice said. _Shut up_ , Harry replied to it.

Once they reached the infirmary, Harry guided Draco to a bed and went to the office. He was familiar with the anti-bruising cream due to his continued injuries. He may not have been ace at Potions, but he could still read. He grabbed the one he needed, and the dittany – just in case – before returning to Draco’s side.

“Give me,” Harry asked, waiting for Draco to give him his hand.

They were quiet as Harry applied the cream, smiling as the redness faded. He was pleased to see that there was no need for the dittany. He turned Draco’s hand over and frowned at the indents made from his nails clenching so tightly. He didn’t think the anti-bruising cream would help, so he simply smoothed his thumb against Draco’s palm.

“What are you doing?” Draco asked, his voice soft. Somewhat fond.

Harry looked up and was surprised to see that his irises were no longer that bright red. Rather they were back to the pink shade they were earlier in the day. Harry didn’t want to think too deeply about why that made him happy.

“Just trying to get rid of them. Look they’re not as deep.”

Draco bent closer bringing their joined hands nearer to his face. He made a small sound at what he saw and looked back at Harry. Harry who had probably stopped breathing, on account of how red his face was. Draco’s eyes lowered to Harry’s lips where he was already chewing them.

“Right… Thank you,” Draco said, smiling slightly.

“You’re not angry anymore?” Harry asked, almost scared for the answer.

“Oh no. I still feel furious underneath. Only it’s suddenly not so bad. It doesn’t feel as bad as before. I think it balanced out or something.”

Harry nodded, “great. That’s great.”

—————

The next appointment was a few days later. Draco’s displays of affection were still frequent. When he realised how mean he had treated Harry, he was very apologetic. He upped his efforts in his displays of affection, much to the amusement of everyone in the common room. However, their laughter was cut short when Draco shouted at them to go away. His anger had returned and was triggered by everyone but Harry. Harry who was often greeted with a kiss on the cheek in the mornings and a hug before the separated at night.

It seemed that wherever Harry was, Draco was soon to follow – if they weren’t already together, that is. As much as it bothered Harry, he found himself getting used to it. So used to it that he was scared to see how this attempt of restoring Draco’s emotions would go. He almost didn’t want to go back to ignoring each other. He wasn’t sure if this would be the one that would bring the old Draco back.

“Let’s go Draco,” Harry said, ignoring the knowing chuckles at his use of Draco’s first name.

Draco glared at those who dared chuckle at his dearest, but smiled when he turned to Harry, “Sure Harry!”

Without much thought, Harry reached out and grasped Draco’s hand and led the two of them to where Flitwick was waiting. He smiled to himself when he heard Draco gasp and tightened his hold. Maybe they could remain as friends when this thing ended. He felt Draco walk faster so he could lean his head on Harry’s shoulder as they walked.

Oh who was he kidding, he doubted he could pretend to be friends with Draco if this was how things would be if they were _more_. Touch was something Harry realised he wasn’t accustomed to, despite the many years of friendship with hug-happy Ron. Harry learned how much he wanted to be touched because of Draco’s tactile nature. He recalled watching Draco act dramatically and lean against Blaise and Pansy during the past. How he was not afraid to wrap an arm around Theodore’s shoulder and lead him around. Even Greg and Vince received hugs from Draco now and again.

Harry swallowed as he knocked on the door, refusing to acknowledge the warmth coming from Draco’s breath as he leaned against him. The door opened and Harry looked down, trying his darndest to not to grimace at the fond look Flitwick was throwing them. Even Flitwick had softened after seeing their interactions.

“Right, come in boys, let’s see how today will go shall we?”

Draco led the way this time, looking at Harry over his shoulder, “you’ll do the same as last time right?”

“Of course.” Harry nodded toward the arrow, waiting for Draco to take the next step.

More confident, Draco grasped the arrow’s body and lifted it, laughing when he couldn’t as it was heavier than he thought. He looked back at Harry and smiled, elated that he wasn’t feeling the need to shout at Harry.

Harry relaxed, knowing that Draco wasn’t going to start throwing hexes. Only, he became alarmed as tears started to pool in Draco’s eyes. His smile started to disappear and he struggled to breathe. His grip was so tight on the arrow that when he fell to the ground, it moved slightly toward the edge of the table.

He was gasping, struggling to let in air as tears rushed down his pink cheeks. “H-Harry…” He gasped, his free hand reaching out to him. Harry rushed to his side, not before prying Draco’s hand away from the arrow so he could wrap both arms around Harry. He dug his head into Harry’s shoulder and hiccoughed. One of his hands raised to the back of Harry’s hair where he tugged the baby hairs, while the other wrapped around his neck to bring him in closer.

Flitwick knew this was coming so he wasn’t too concerned, but seeing a student in distress always made him sad. He carefully spelt the arrow away, locked it in his office, and left the boys alone. Harry had shown his initiative last session so Flitwick knew they would be okay.

“Harry… Harry…” Draco gasped once more, tears dampening Harry’s neck and staining his shirt as they fell. He leaned back slightly and looked into Harry’s eyes. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Harry pulled him back into his arms, “shhh.” He rubbed Draco’s back, his arms. Trying his best to reassure the miserable boy in his arms. “I forgive you.”

“How?” his broken voice echoed into the room, “how can you? I was horrible, I did terrible terrible things to people who didn’t deserve them. I was an utter piece of trash, no, piece of shit. I am waste. I am lower than dirt. I shouldn’t be here, I shouldn’t be welcomed.”

Harry felt his heart breaking at Draco’s words, “no. You don’t get to decide if I forgive you or not. That’s my choice, and I am forgiving you. Whether you like it or not. You’re human, you made mistakes. You atone for them and better yourself. You’re aware of what you did and you will do what you can to correct the error of your ways. I know you were blending into the background during the past few months, but if you want to be forgiven, you must apologise. You’ve already apologised to me, so there’s step one.”

“I’m scared to apologise. I, of course, want to be forgiven. I know I don’t deserve it, but the thought of people not accepting my apology or… or hexing me instead… I’m scared. I know I obviously deserve it, that and worse.”

Harry sighed, and started playing with Draco’s hair. He remembered seeing Pansy do it to him in the common room whenever he looked particularly glum. “Okay. That’s probably expected. Some people just can’t accept certain things, but they aren’t all people. I know for sure that Hermione’s forgiven you. Even Ron’s come around. If the three of us can forgive you, I’m sure others will follow.”

Harry looked around the room, as if for guidance.

“Forgiveness is a journey. It takes time to get to, but it all starts with that first step.”

Draco sniffed, “mmkay.”

Harry continued, “is there anything else? What else are you feeling besides guilt and sadness?”

Draco’s grip tightened, “I think fear?” At this Draco’s breathing increased slightly, “right now I hate how dark it is in this room. Can we go outside? Please?” Toward the end, Draco’s voice raised in pitch, his fear of being in the dark suddenly coming back to him. “I don’t like not knowing what’s hidden in the corner. Harry!” He pulled Harry to a stand, tugging the front of his shirt, “let’s go. Now. Please!” His eyes were wide, tinted in pink still.

Nodding, Harry pulled his hands away, “yeah, yes. Let’s go.”

Before they left the room, Harry pulled Draco into a final hug. “Everything’s going to be alright. We’ll figure out what to do okay? I’ll take you outside okay?”

He felt Draco nod against his shoulder in agreement.

—————

Harry talked to Flitwick and Madame Pomfrey. They both agreed with him when he suggested they hold off the from next session. Draco was still adjusting to feeling emotions of sadness and fear, that he was less likely to handle another negative one. Draco knew this of course and appreciated Harry’s thoughtfulness.

The greatest difference that week was Draco’s silence. He still accompanied Harry around, but he was a lot more reflective. He would grab Harry’s wrist whenever Harry needed to go somewhere, and seemed more conscious of his actions. Where he kissed Harry’s cheek before, he would instead lean into Harry’s side and just wrap his closest hand around Harry’s wrist. Harry wasn’t sure which one he preferred more.

Noticing the difference in Harry’s feelings regarding what was going on, Pansy dragged him to one corner. For once, Draco wasn’t by his side. Rather, he was being distracted by Blaise who was using drama about a failed Ravenclaw date to grab his attention.

“Potter.”

Harry looked at her apprehensively, they agreed to be civil, friendly even, due to the Draco’s initial clingy-ness. However, Harry was still intimidated by her. She would no doubt become a very powerful woman in the future, different in Hermione’s form of intimidation, but she still possessed power.

“Yes, Pansy?” He pointedly ignored her sneer at his use of her first name. If they wanted to put things in the past, that was the first thing to go, in his book.

“Right. Harry, then,” she paused, allowing him to nod in agreement, “okay. So I have noticed something about you. Wait, scratch that, the whole castle has noticed something about you. And I need you to know that you’ve been properly warned before you go on such a path.”

Harry’s ears started to warm, and he knew they were turning red. He, fortunately, wasn’t a blusher in the cheeks. He thanked Hermione for telling him to keep his hair long, as it kept his reddening ears hidden. He knew exactly what Pansy was implying, he wasn’t as oblivious as everyone liked to think of him as. But he did enjoy acting like he was. So act he did.

“What exactly do you mean?” He tilted his head, careful not to curl his hair behind his ears, purposefully suffering his fringe poking into his eyes. His glasses were pointless, they were barely the right prescription, and they didn’t protect his eyes from his hair’s attacks.

“Don’t play coy, it’s unbecoming of you.”

Harry rolled his eyes and tried to play it off, “okay, fine. Let’s say I don’t know what you’re talking about. Care to elaborate?”

“You look at Draco the way he looks at you when you think he’s not looking,” she finally revealed.

Harry could feel himself choking. He thought he was so much more secretive than this. Okay, so maybe he _did_ wear his heart on his sleeve, and his poker face sucked. But– Yeah, he had no way of defending himself in his thoughts. What more to Pansy?

“Okay, and?”

Pansy’s face blanked, she wasn’t expecting him to admit it up front. Then again, there was nothing he could say in defence. He guessed she was expecting more of a fight. “Okay, look. Draco’s in an obviously fragile state. When he gets back to normal, who knows how he’s going to act.”

Harry nodded, but he knew what she was saying. This wasn’t the real Draco. He was still influenced by Eros’ Arrow and there was no telling how Draco would behave once everything was back to normal. Perhaps, in her own way, she wanted to warn Harry. Not just to protect Draco, but Harry and his growing feelings. He could appreciate it, after all, he had his own corner of protective friends.

—————

In the days waiting for the next session, Harry and Draco talked more. Now that Draco was less clingy and praising Harry with fewer sonnets, conversations seemed easier to initiate. Draco apologised profusely for making a spectacle of himself. He would turn pink every time Harry would bring up one of the poems Draco had made for him. 

Fortunately, for Harry, Draco remained tactile with him. The hugs had lessened, but Draco still reached for Harry’s hand whenever they passed each other in the corridor.

One Saturday afternoon found Harry and Draco alone in the common room. Everyone had taken advantage of having a free weekend by visiting Hogsmeade, and those with licenses even Apparated to Diagon Alley.

“I apologise for how touchy I’ve been the past few weeks. I know how much I can get, I tend to ignore things like personal space.” Draco was purposefully sat on the opposite side of the sofa. Their legs were stretched out in the space between them, hence why it was so easy for Harry to push the soles of their feet together.

“Don’t be daft, there’s nothing to apologise for,” he looked away from Draco’s curious stare and coughed, “besides… I, uhh– gotusedtoit.”

Harry knew he didn’t have to repeat himself as he saw Draco’s grin grow. An expression that was rare on his face since the previous arrow session. Sure he smiled every now and again, but that huge grin on display? Harry was glad to have witnessed it again.

“Do you think I’m ready for the next session? What more can I feel? I think I’m pretty well rounded now, anything more and I’ll probably be worse. I like how I am now Harry, can we just stop at this?”

Harry looked back into Draco’s eyes. The pink tint had faded over time, but it was still present. He found himself missing the cloud-grey eyes. He gestured for Draco to come closer. Before long Draco was settled on top of Harry’s lap. Both closed their eyes at the comfort the other brought. Harry’s hand naturally settled on top of Draco’s hair and he played with the soft strands.

“I’m glad you’re happy. But what happens if you’re suddenly struck with a new emotion when you least expect it? Isn’t it better that you have everything back when you expect it? At least this way it’s in a controlled environment? I mean, it’s up to you. If it were me, I’d feel like I was lying to myself in a way…”

Draco lifted his head, his eyes moving between Harry’s. Harry was silent, letting him gather his thoughts. He tried to keep his heart steady when Draco pouted petulantly; their faces were so close. If Harry just leaned forward–

“You make a good point, I suppose,” Draco said.

“I find myself making plenty of those, and yet many don’t realise it,” Harry replied, poking Draco’s cheek playfully.

Draco laughed softly and Harry found himself bringing his other fingers toward his face. He caressed his cheek fondly and watched as Draco closed his eyes and leaned into his palm. Harry felt his breath stutter when Draco’s eyes opened. He could feel Draco start to lean in and was feeling his resolve to not do this decrease. But, as Draco closed in, his pink-tinted eyes brought Harry back to reality. This wasn’t what Draco wanted. Not truly. And Harry would hate himself if he took advantage of the situation.

He twisted his head so Draco’s lips grazed his cheek instead. Draco seemed flustered for a bit but took in in stride, leaning down and placing his head on Harry’s chest. The two remained in silence for a bit.

“Do you not like me?” Draco asked, his hand coming up to play with the hair on Harry’s arm.

Harry sighed, “I don’t dislike you.”

Draco mumbled and burrowed deeper into Harry’s embrace. Harry almost missed it, with how low his voice was, but he managed to hear the end of it, “–miss this…”

—————

It was by an unspoken agreement that they went into the room quietly. Flitwick seemed aware of it, probably knowing that this would be the last session. He had requested to speak privately with Draco beforehand, and upon their return, Draco was obviously unhappy about something. He brushed off Harry’s concern and steeled himself for what was to come.

Harry looked between his professor and Draco, wondering what it was that they discussed. Draco calmly assured him that it was nothing of major concern. They waited for Flitwick to bring out the arrow in silence. Harry was starting to feel antsy, his foot started to tap as the seconds – which felt like hours to him – passed.

When the Arrow was finally on display, Flitwick backed away and gestured toward it. Draco took a deep breath and walked towards it. He looked at Flitwick, seeming to come to a decision. He turned back to Harry and was by his side in an instant.

Harry was about to ask what he needed but realised he couldn’t on account of Draco kissing him. Harry reasoned that he was a weak-willed guy, and when faced with such a situation, you couldn’t blame him. He didn’t resist as Draco tugged on Harry’s shirt bringing them closer together. Harry’s eyes closed and he lost himself in the sensation. Draco sucked on Harry’s lower lip, biting it lightly. The pain alerted Harry, bringing him back to the present. He gathered all his strength to push Draco away.

They were both panting and Harry focused on Draco’s shiny lips, slightly swollen from when Harry had– _no_! He looked into Draco’s eyes and was disheartened to see the pink tint still there.

“I just… Just once– I’m sorry.”

Harry let go of Draco’s shoulders and fixed his glasses. He took them off and cleaned them with the sleeve of his shirt, deciding it would be best to not look at Draco for the moment. He licked his lips and could taste Draco on them. He found a section of skin that had lifted and nibbled on it as he tried to make sense of what just happened.

“Boys?” Flitwick could not have chosen a better time to interrupt them. They both looked at him, and he mutely pointed to the Arrow. 

“Right. That.” Draco fixed his shirt of invisible wrinkles and made his approach again.

Harry finally looked at Draco and watched in anticipation to see what he would do next. His hearing became muffled as Draco touched the Arrow for hopefully the final time.

This time, there was no huge scene of Draco gasping. He gently lifted his hand off the arrow and nodded to Flitwick as he walked toward the door. He glanced at Harry, who was relieved to see the pink tint had gone and looked away quickly.

“Thanks, Potter.”

Harry felt his heart sink. He was expecting this, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. He nodded in response and watched as Draco walked out of the room. Once the door closed behind him, Harry struggled to stand and leaned against the desk behind him.

So that was it then.

—————

There wasn’t much to catch Harry’s attention anymore. Before the Eros’ Arrow debacle, he was perfectly content to blend into the background. Though, that was futile as he might as well have walked around with neon signs pointing to him. This time, however, there was the quiet in his life that he had been so desperately seeking. Only, this silence was so uncomfortable. The common room was uncomfortable. Being alone felt… uncomfortable.

Harry knew that Hermione had been talking with Pansy about him, but he decided not to go there. What’s done was done. It was time to move on, to move forward.

By some agreement, the students who returned for a repeat of their seventh year had moved in solidarity. They stopped their teasing and acted as if everything was back to normal. As if the past month hadn’t happened. Harry wasn’t sure whether to be proud of them being united, or annoyed at how well they were for it.

Harry was sat in his remedial Charms class with Flitwick, sighing into his arm now and again. He drew on his parchment whenever he felt like it, not absorbing much of what his professor was saying. Flitwick seemed to notice and called for a break. Harry shot up, guilty that he was distracted. Especially since Flitwick didn’t need to do this for him. He wasn’t sure how, but while these sessions were supposed to be shared with Draco, he was alone.

“Is something troubling you Harry?” Flitwick asked, pulling himself up to sit onto his table. He was the perfect image of a concerned teacher, wanting to guide the wayward youth.

“Not particularly, no. I guess you could say I just got used to a routine, and now it’s changed. I feel like a rug was pulled from beneath my feet.”

Flitwick nodded, understanding where Harry was coming from, “perhaps I may be of assistance?”

Harry looked at him in interest, what could Flitwick possibly tell him?

—————

 _Are you kidding me?_ Harry remembered asking his professor. The negatory reply from Flitwick sprung him into action. He remembered thanking him from over his shoulder, but he couldn’t recall if there was a reply. All he knew was that he needed to get to Draco.

—————

It was weird to be feeling things other than excessive happiness. Draco frowned at his work when he remembered how unrestrained he acted. He was a walking Hufflepuff mascot. He wondered why no one had bothered to tease him about it. For surely, he would have done the same had the roles been reversed. Well, what’s done was done. He could only move forward now. And pretend like nothing ever happened.

He brushed his thumb against his lips, deep in thought. The sensation brought back the memory of another’s lips grazing against his. He shook his head as if to remove it from his brain. He couldn’t go there. That was a fruitless venture.

It was difficult to see Harry and not act in the way he wanted. He no longer had the buffer of the Arrow. He no longer had the excuse to hug Harry; to claim him as his. He sighed, annoyed at the direction of his thoughts, and attempted to return his focus on his work. The words, however, decided to dance around his page. He groaned and crossed his arms in front of him.

—————

Harry searched the common room, the library, everywhere. If there was one thing Draco was good at, it was avoiding Harry. Something he had done for the past few weeks. It was a skill Harry initially enjoyed, not wanting to see his nemesis so often. However, he needed to find Draco. He had _questions_!

He spotted Pansy laughing at something Ginny was telling her. Harry looked for an alternative, but Blaise wasn’t anywhere near, and Harry couldn’t wait much longer. He approached them, his confidence growing with each step.

“Where is he?” he asked, choosing to skip the small talk and get straight to the point.

“Who?” Pansy asked, widening her eyes and acting like the owl she sounded like.

“You know who.”

Ginny raised her eyebrows at that, “funny.”

“Haha,” Harry deadpanned, turning his attention back to Pansy, “Draco. Where’s Draco?”

Pansy rolled her eyes, “finally found your balls from where they disappeared after defeating ol’ no-nose? The drama queen is moping outside. If not the courtyard, then somewhere by the trees. He doesn’t like to be inside when he feels like this.”

Harry remembered Draco’s confession of his fear of the dark. _Right_ , he thought. He was about to turn in the direction Pansy gave when his sleeve was pulled.

“Hurt him, and I hurt you,” she threatened him.

“I aim not to, then,” Harry said, freeing his sleeve and rushing away from her.

The two girls watched him as he ran to look for Draco. They looked at each other and squealed, grabbing each other’s hands and jumping.

“It’s actually happening? Finally!” They cheered.

—————

Draco closed his eyes and leaned against the tree trunk. The smell of the blossoms and fresh grass filled his nostrils as he took in a deep inhale. He opened his eyes again and spotted a few flowers, early in their bloom. He made sure he was alone before he plucked one and fixed his position against the tree.

“He loves me, he loves me not,” he started, pulling the petals off one by one.

By the time he was on his third flower, he heard footsteps. He straightened and tried to brush off the petals. He wasn’t fast enough as Harry caught him still holding onto the step in his other hand. Draco froze, unsure.

Harry raised both hands, in a placating manner. _I come in peace_ , his eyes said. Draco watched cautiously as Harry lowered himself and sat a metre away from Draco. Draco wished he was closer, and as if hearing his thoughts, Harry shuffled over. Not close enough, but close enough that Draco could _smell_ him.

“Do you know why I was looking for you?” Harry asked, his hands crossed, entirely relaxed.

Draco fiddled with the little pieces of grass in his lap, “payback?”

Harry looked at him, “what for?”

“I’m sure you want retribution for the… the way I acted. I apologise that I haven’t said sorry about that. I’m still trying to erase it from my mind and figured apologising for it, meant it happened. And I rather… none of it… did.”

Harry was still staring at him.

“What?”

It was like he didn’t need to blink.

“Potter?”

Were his eyes not drying out?

“...Harry?”

Did he even have a right to call the Saviour by his first name?

“Ha–”

This time it was Draco’s turn to be interrupted – _quite rudely_ – with a kiss. It was a quick, chaste kiss, yet it was enough to give him a deep blush. Draco caught sight of Harry’s ears and was glad to know he wasn’t the only one unaffected.

“What was that for?”

“What was _that for_?! You’re an idiot, that’s why!”

Draco’s eyebrows furrowed, “you kiss idiots? Should I fear for Granger and Weasley’s relationship? Or is that a thing you three do?”

Harry gaped, causing Draco to laugh. To see him so shocked amused Draco so much that he couldn’t help but to laugh.

“I talked to Flitwick.”

Well, there’s a mood killer if Draco ever needed one.

Despite fearing the answer, Draco knew he had to ask, “And what exactly did your conversation entail?”

Harry looked down, finding a flower nearby that Draco had missed. He plucked it and twirled it around, the light pink petals turning into a circle from the speed. He stopped and rubbed the petals between his fingers, feeling the velvety texture.

“He explained how Eros’ Arrow works.”

Draco nodded, “I see.”

“Yes, as if I wasn’t already conflicted.”

Draco’s head spun to look at Harry, who already had his gaze fixed on him, “what could have possibly caused you conflict?”

Harry leaned closer, until his face was almost a breath away, “I was conflicted about you.”

Draco blinked, “and what was it about?”

Harry lifted the flower and traced it against Draco’s cheek, “see… I was conflicted about how to act around you. You obviously weren't acting out of your own free will. I couldn’t do anything but to appease you. I couldn’t respond, no matter how… How badly I wanted to.”

Draco’s eyes traced the flower as it lowered, and moved back up. “What exactly did you want to do?” He whispered, fearing that if he talked any louder it would ruin the atmosphere.

“You mean, how would I have acted if I knew that you were acting of your own free will?”

Draco merely nodded.

“I suppose I would have given in to what I wanted to do. I would have returned every single one of your hugs. I would have followed you around myself. I would have insisted on remaining by your side. I would have kept holding your hand. I would have given you some cheesy poetry about how angelic you look. I would have done that and so much more.”

Draco’s breath decided to become a thing of the past. Was his hearing playing up? Or was this a hallucination? A side effect of Eros’ Arrow which was displaying his inner desires?

“Do you want that, Draco?” Harry asked. “Because Flitwick said that all the Arrow did was _siphon_ emotions. It doesn’t _add_ any. That meant, whatever you felt for me was–”

“Real,” Draco finished, “so so real.”

Harry’s eyes lit up, his hand was getting tired so he lowered it to his side, grasping Draco’s hand along the way. “So why did you choose to ignore me?”

Draco looked down at their hands, “you didn’t act as if you liked me when I was basically draping myself all over you. What was I supposed to think? I thought you were annoyed with me; wanted nothing to do with me. I thought you wanted to get rid of me. To finally be free–”

“I like you too, you prat! And if we talked this out properly we could have fixed ourselves a whole load of pining!” Harry almost growled. He thought of the weeks they spent apart and how they could have spent it instead.

“Well,” Draco drawled, bringing their hands up and tracing the back of Harry’s knuckles against his lips, “there’s no stopping us now, is there?”

Harry bit his lip, it almost seemed too good to be true.

“Kiss me,” Draco whispered.

So Harry did.

When they pulled away, Draco traced Harry’s cheekbones.

“Did you know the gods of fertility have been working for aeons to create such a shade. Yet, they never would have found one more perfect than what I see in your eyes?”

Harry laughed, “there’s one thing I can confidently say I didn’t miss!”

Draco smiled, pulling him back for more.


End file.
